The Dark City of Nowhere
by sanarox
Summary: "I thought I could trust you." "What does she have that I don't?" The brunette walks out into the cold crisp air and begins to make his way to the city of Nowhere.
"I thought I could trust you."

Those final words before his departure into the unknown.

They never had the most steady relationship but it was never the most rocky. Their's was one that was unique because they learned to accept compromise.

The crisp cool air floated around him and surrounded him like a shield. His glossy brown eyes shone with the reflection of the shuttering street lights. He kept walking with no set destination. Each step brought tears to his eyes. He inhaled and let out a shaky breath. His breath let out a ghost of wind that was left visible only to the brunette because of the full moon and lampposts lighting his way down the empty street. He found it comforting in an odd way and it helped him keep his mind off the subject of his departure.

Now, he was typically known as a cold person. He was a very fragile person who would seal his sensitive heart from anyone and anything. He made himself a set of rules, which he never broke...apart from one exception. The one time he broke his own rules, the exception that would ruin him. He can remember the blond hair he so dearly ran his nimble fingers through this very morning. He reluctantly tries to remember the last time they kissed, but he can't.

Their relationship started out like a wildfire and the mere thought of being near on another r mad their hearts race and their eyes gleam with a light neither knew they had. This very same light began slowly fading away and they soon grew apart. The blond became lost in his own little world full of one night stands and alcohol. The brunette, on the other hand, became lost in trying to help the blond back to his feet, but, it was already to late.

The mere thought of seeing the blond now, made the man sick.

He kept walking...away from the city he once knew like the back of his hand.

He had always liked the cold but he had gotten to used to the warm.

His hands were always cold. His body temperature would be normal yet his skin felt like ice. He became to used to feeling a soft flame against his hand each time he walked through this part of town. His lover's hand was larger than his own and certainly much warmer. He can remember the first time they held hands like it was yesterday.

I was simple, but, he liked simple. They cracked a few jokes here and there on a way to a well-known ice cream shop that lay on a typically busy broad walk. He remembers ordering the vanilla ice cream and the blond commenting on how boring that flavor is. He recalls holding his lover's hand and walking across the same road we walks now. The atmosphere at the time could be represented in colors: rose, gold, and white. The memory could make him think of seeing a cloud float across a sunrise. Rose was his favorite color.

The eerie atmosphere made him stop wailing and he turned to see himself in the same place he had stood years ago...next to the ice cream shop. He let out another shaky breath and leaned his back against the cold cylinder that was the lamppost. The cold radiated off the lamppost to the brunette and back.

He could remember the dark mocha eyes. How he could get lost in them with so much ease. The scent of cologne and the almost natural scent of musk. In these thoughts, a moment of euphoria gave him the location of where he wanted to go.

He began walking at a slow pace, a light jog, and then a full on sprint. He made turns and kept running until he finally reached his destination. His hands shook from the cold as he desperately took the keys from his pocket. He unlocked the door and almost flew up the stairs without a second thought.

There he stood. Eyes gazing upon a large grand piano. He waked towards it and placed his hands across the surface. The dust stuck to his fingers and he shook his hand to get rid of it. Leaning down, he blew across the surface of the piano and say his reflection looking back at him. His eyes are puffy and his face pink from the cold. He sat down on the chair of the piano and simply stared at the keys.

He felt mesmerized by the colors of white and black and the sounds he could almost hear them make. He remembers the tunes of joy and peace he made in the past. He thinks of the rich sounds he could make by simply pressing one finger across the keys.

The 1 Ballade in the G Minor by Chopin, a song of sweet sorry. Both hands to be used as he gets used to playing. His hands suddenly begin to take off and he begins playing a soft rich sound. His timing is perfect.

He plays with his eyes closed as he knows the keys of this piano inside and out. He let his heart and soul take over his movements and moves his body with the music. The beginning is repetitive yet his is only 1/8th done with the melody.

His hands keep moving and his fingers keep pressing against the cool air and the keys. The sound emitted from the piano is beautiful and the desperate movements of his hands make it sound even more meaningful. With a simple move of his fingers he could ruin this wondrous serenade, yet, he keeps himself from doing so. He gets ready for a fast paced part of the melody and his thoughts begin to run wild.

He remembers meaningless things, such as, eating breakfast with his beloved and fighting over the TV remote. He then remembers the times they would banter on random topics. His memories begin getting solemn as he recalls the times his lover would not come home from work or would simply ignore his presence. His fingers keep creating a soft sound that evolves into a staccato. He remembers the holidays and the times they would return to this very same piano. He recalls the times he tried to teach his lover to play but ended up just playing some random tune.

A playful tune escapes the piano and it is ended too soon for it returns to its quick and fast paced melody. The sound changes and so do his thoughts, as they continue running wild. His heart is beating to the beat of the piano and he plays with all his might.

This very same night.

He was forgotten.

Meaningless.

All in vain.

These thoughts crowd his mind and take over in a dictatorship over the previously happy memories. This melody is perfect. His fingers move swiftly and each time he doubts himself in his thoughts, his hands keep moving.

What did I do wrong?

Was it my fault?

His resolution gives out anger and frustration against himself. He lets out a chain of shaky breaths and finalizes the melody. He removes his hands from the keys and notices they are still shaking. He also begins to feel the teardrops against his cheeks and begins to wipe them off.

Those bland grey eyes.

They felt no such remorse.

Did she know?

Did she also know she ruined my life?

He can still remember how happy the man of his dreams was next to the other woman. How natural it looked in his eyes. He can recall the sweet sound of his deep voice as he proclaimed his love to her. He can remember seeing the man kiss her with more passion than he ever did.

Was I not special?

Did I mean that little to you?

His mind felt hazy and tears fell like rain. He felt colder by the second. He got off the chair and closed the piano for the last time. He sat near the window that let in the freezing air and looked at the full moon. What a beautiful sight it was.

He remembers their last conversation. The last words he heard from the man he so dearly loved,

 _"I'm sorry."_

No you weren't. If you were truly sorry, you wouldn't have tricked me all these years.

"Why did you lie to me?"

The blond looked at the brunette in pity as he saw tears escape his eyes,

 _"I'm sorry."_

The brunette shook his head, "I don't need your pity dammit! I want the truth! Was I not worthy?"

The blond answered immediately, "No! It's not you...It's me. _I'm sorry_ "

"Stop with the damn 'I'm sorry's' We've been together for years and best friends even longer. What happened? What does she have that I don't?"

The man in front of the brunette looked away and said, "You want the truth. I never loved you. It all started out as a joke, you know. A joke that I didn't know how to end and it got out of hand. I never knew this would have happened."

"A _joke_? This was all a joke to you then? All of these godforsaken years were all a joke to you!" The brunette began to laugh. His laughter sounded throughout the whole apartment until he stopped.

His laughter was replaced with soft sobs, "I trusted you. I gave you my heart and soul. I gave you my everything!"

 _"I'm sorry"_

The blond stayed put as the other man made his way towards the door of the previously shared apartment.

"Is that all you're going to say to me?"

He waited...no responce, "Farewell then, Shizuo Heiwajima."

He began his walk into the dark Nowhere.


End file.
